Between Friends
by Shakespeare's Lemonade
Summary: While riding in the woods, Merlin and Gwaine are attacked by bandits, and Gwaine is mortally wounded. Merlin is forced to choose between trusting Gwaine with his secret or losing his best friend forever. Oneshot. Set in the interlude between seasons 4 and 5.


Between Friends

Shakespeare's Lemonade

Rating: T

Genre: Friendship/Hurt/Comfort

Summary: While riding in the woods, Merlin and Gwaine are attacked by bandits, and Gwaine is mortally wounded. Merlin is forced to choose between trusting Gwaine with his secret or losing his best friend forever.

A/N: This is my first Merlin story ever. I just watched the series last month, and I was kind of bummed out that Gwaine never knew the truth about Merlin. I really enjoyed their friendship, so I thought they needed this. Oh, and thanks to my friend Celery Stick (name changed to protect the guilty) who introduced me to Merlin and lets me babble on about character motivation and psychology. This is all her fault.

"_The best way to find out if you can trust somebody is to trust them."~Ernest Hemingway_

Merlin had become accustomed to the feel of a sturdy horse beneath him and the summer breeze blowing through his hair. Usually these sensations accompanied something dangerous or violent, but today was practically a holiday—a day off—and Gwaine had asked him to go for a ride.

It always turned into sort of a game with Gwaine. He liked to race Merlin without actually saying that they were racing. But Merlin was used to that, and he added in a few of his own tricks to even things out. Nothing so obvious that Gwaine would notice. Just a thrown horseshoe here or an unexpected tree branch there. Gaius would say that he wasn't being cautious enough, but sometimes Merlin hoped that Gwaine would notice. It seemed as if every day it got harder to keep this secret, especially from his best friend.

But Gwaine never noticed. Maybe he was too busy talking, or maybe he only saw what he wanted to see. Merlin had to be satisfied with never sharing all of who he was.

That day, they rode through most of the morning, only stopping for a rest once they reached a small stream. They let the horses rest and drink while they produced lunch from their saddlebags. Merlin much preferred civilization to eating off the ground, but he did enjoy the peace and quiet.

At least, it would have been quiet if Gwaine weren't... Gwaine.

Still, it felt as if Merlin could be himself around the other man. He could have fun and almost relax. Almost.

Gwaine passed the time telling funny and/or embarrassing stories about the other knights. Merlin had just as many stories about Arthur, but he swore Gwaine to secrecy because he didn't want any more boots thrown at his head.

Gwaine laughed after a particularly terrible story. "He can't really treat you so badly," he said.

"Well, I probably deserve it," Merlin joked. "I'm a terrible servant."

"I don't know what you are, but you're not Arthur's servant."

"I look out for him."

Gwaine shook his head. "I still can't figure you out, Merlin."

Merlin looked down at his hands, knowing what he'd like to say, and knowing he couldn't. "I'm not that complicated."

Gwaine kicked Merlin's foot playfully. "Of course you are. The most complicated man in Camelot."

"Just because you can't understand me?" Merlin looked up at Gwaine. "That's not saying much."

"No, it's more the fact that all of this is your fault."

"All of what?"

"I'm not sure on that, but I know you must be responsible for the state of things."

"Is that good or bad?"

"Haven't decided yet."

"Well, when you do, let me know exactly what it is I've achieved."

While Merlin was talking, Gwaine suddenly tensed and held up his hand for silence.

"What is it?" Merlin whispered.

"Shh!" Gwaine didn't look at Merlin. His eyes scanned the forest around them, but the rest of his body was utterly still.

All was quiet. Too quiet.

Without warning, Gwaine tackled Merlin to the ground as arrows flew through the air into the trees behind them.

"Bandits!" Gwaine spat in Merlin's ear.

The horses weren't far away, but there was still a volley of fire above their heads. Gwaine jumped up first—because he was on top of Merlin—and made a break for them. Merlin followed, misdirecting as many arrows as he could. But there were so many.

Merlin's horse was closest, so he got away first, but he could hear Gwaine right behind him now. In addition to the arrows, the sounds of thundering feet and shouting filled the air. At first, Merlin didn't look back. He was too intent on escaping that he thought of nothing else.

But soon, he could no longer hear the bandits, and Gwaine seemed to be slowing. By turning his head for a split second, Merlin saw that they had a new problem. There was an arrow sticking out of Gwaine's side. He had not worn his chain mail that day, and his tunic was already soaked in blood.

Merlin slowed hi horse and grabbed the reins out of Gwaine's hands. The knight was already beginning to lose consciousness. But they couldn't stop here. The bandits could catch up and kill them both. Merlin got down and helped Gwaine lay across the saddle, careful not to push the arrow in deeper, and then led both horses onward.

It was slow, but they had already covered some distance. It would have to do until they could find a place to hide and see how badly injured Gwaine really was.

And it was getting dark.

**~oOo~**

It was almost impossible to see by the time Merlin found the crumbling remains of some unidentifiable stone structure. It was quite a task getting Gwaine off his horse and underneath what was left of the roof and then finding enough dry wood to start a fire. Every second he worked felt like precious time wasted off Gwaine's life.

When Merlin was finally able to look at the wound, his hands were shaking from the cold, and Gwaine's skin felt hot. Never a good sign. Leaving the arrow in had kept Gwaine from bleeding to death, but it also kept whatever dirt or bacteria that might have been on it in Gwaine's bloodstream.

Merlin tried to think of what Gaius would do in a situation like this. He tested Gwaine's pulse—weak, but still there. He definitely had a fever, and he had passed completely into unconsciousness now. Merlin's first instinct was to race back to Camelot for help, but Gwaine might not make it that far, and Merlin was more than a bit lost. So, he used his scarf and what was left of Gwaine's tunic to make bandages before carefully pulling out the arrow. Gwaine did not stir. Another bad sign.

Once Merlin had cleaned dressed Gwaine's wound, he took of his jacket and laid it over his friend. It wasn't much, but it was all he could do for now. The thought of waiting to see if Gwaine would survive the night didn't much appeal to Merlin. He busied himself by tending to the exhausted horses and seeing how much food and water they still had. Most of it had been left behind when the bandits attacked, but there was an extra water skin and some bread in Gwaine's saddlebags. As disorganized as he sometimes seemed, Gwaine had been prepared, and Merlin was thankful for that. Assuming Gwaine ever woke up, his preparedness could save his life.

Merlin took the food and went back to sit beside Gwaine. It was going to be a very long night.

The fire kept Merlin plenty warm even without his jacket, but he could hear Gwaine shivering from the fever. The infection was already spreading, and Merlin had no way of stopping it. He wracked his brain for the medical knowledge that Gaius had surely taught him, but Merlin knew that the kind of treatment Gwaine required was beyond his skill.

He refused to believe he was out of options. There had to be a way to save Gwaine. After everything the other man had done for him, Merlin owed him. He couldn't let him die from some random bandit attack. It wasn't fair. It wasn't right.

There was one choice, of course, which Merlin was trying very hard not to consider. He knew what Gaius would say. He knew what a risk it would be. But Gwaine was his friend. Merlin couldn't stand by when he had the power to save him, could he?

The night grew colder, and Merlin continued to debate his position. He knew if he did nothing, Gwaine would die within a day. He was still losing blood, and the infection worsened by the hour. Merlin tried not to think about how much pain Gwaine must be in. He hated himself, knowing he could end it with a few words.

Merlin was afraid. Afraid that if he revealed his secret, Gwaine would not be understanding. It was one thing to say they were friends, but quite another to be willing to commit treason for it. But Gwaine had never been particularly interested in politics. Sometimes, Merlin believed he was only a knight because he had nothing better to do. But that couldn't be true. Despite his aloof attitude, Gwaine was loyal to Arthur and Camelot. Would his loyalty to Merlin trump that? There was only one way to find out.

In the darkest part of the night, Gwaine woke. Merlin noticed it when his breathing quickened. In the firelight, Gwaine's eyes looked like two glowing embers.

"Merlin?" he rasped.

Merlin picked up the water skin and gave Gwaine a drink. It might not help much, but it couldn't hurt.

"I go hit," Gwaine said matter-of-factly. His voice was thin and breathless, but he still managed to affect a tone of humor.

"Yes," Merlin replied. "Don't try to move."

"Couldn't if I wanted to." Gwaine leaned his head back and stared up at the sky through the holes in the rotted wood above them. "How bad is it?"

Merlin had a feeling Gwaine already knew, but he did his best to explain. "I wasn't able to clean the wound soon enough. You've got a bad infection. On top of that I managed to get us lost, so I suppose you were right. Everything is my fault."

Gwaine shook his head. "Don't blame yourself. Could happen to anyone. No regrets, eh Merlin?"

Merlin stared into the flames. His hands shook, but not from the cold. Thousands of words bubbled up in his throat, all the things he wanted to say, but he couldn't get his mouth to open. Everything on the inside of him wanted to be on the outside. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew he was risking everything, and he didn't care anymore.

"I can save you," Merlin blurted out before he had the chance to change his mind.

"It's all right, Merlin," Gwaine said, obviously misunderstanding him.

"No, I mean it. I can save you. If you want me to."

"Not sure if I'm starting to get delirious. What in the world are you talking about?"

"I have magic. I can heal you."

"Definitely delirious."

"It's your only chance. If I don'—you'll die."

"I know, Merlin. I know I'm going to die."

The way Gwaine said it so calmly without any inflection whatsoever scared Merlin.

He finally turned to face Gwaine. "I'm serious. I'm a sorcerer. I was born like this. I can't help it. But that means I can save your life. I'm not gonna let you die."

Gwaine stared back at Merlin, probably thinking he was dreaming or imagining things. There was no way Merlin could convince him.

"Please... Just tell me you want me to save you. I won't do it if you don't want me to."

"Do what you want Merlin." Gwaine's eyes closed. The conversation must have exhausted him. "If it'll make you feel better."

Merlin took that as all the permission he needed. And not a moment too soon. Gwaine was fading away. His breathing had become more shallow in the last few minutes. Merlin inhaled deeply and placed his hands over Gwaine's wound. He was really going through with it, and he no longer felt any uncertainty. Gwaine was worth the risk.

Merlin put everything he had into the spell, and even though it didn't take long, he was completely drained by the end of it. His last conscious thought was that Gwaine was breathing normal again.

**~oOo~**

Merlin woke to a heavy boot not-so-gently nudging his side. At first he thought it must be Arthur trying to wake him before dawn for some stupid hunting trip. But then he remembered where he was and bolted upright. The sky was barely beginning to get light, and Gwaine was standing over Merlin with an armful of firewood and a smirk on his face.

"Enjoy your beauty sleep, Merlin?" he asked.

Merlin had to think for a moment before he remembered that he did in fact reveal his magic to Gwaine during the night and that Gwaine was now in perfect health and much more energetic than Merlin would have expected.

"You feeling all right?" Merlin said.

Gwaine added some wood to the fire and spread out the last of their food. "Never better," he replied. "Soon as the sun's up, I should be able to find the way back home."

The conspicuous absence of any mention of what happened grated on Merlin. All that build up, and now—nothing. But he wasn't going to bring it up.

Merlin moved closer to the fire and took one of the leftover pieces of bread. They ate in silence, and that was when Merlin knew he hadn't just imagined everything. Gwaine was never this quiet, even when his mouth was full. And there were only a few bites of bread left.

Merlin noticed that Gwaine was still wearing his jacket—which was a bit too small—and the bloody makeshift bandages from the night before. Everything about this morning was a reminder of what Merlin had done. It was all staring him in the face, and he wished Gwaine would say something. This lack of acknowledgment was worse than the rejection or anger Merlin always feared.

"You sure you're all right?" Merlin finally asked. It was an innocuous enough question, but he was hoping it would open the door for something else.

"I'm fine," Gwaine said. "You done?"

Merlin nodded and turned back to the fire. It was a chilly morning, and he couldn't wait to get moving once it was light enough.

Gwaine stood up and went over to their horses to repack the saddlebags. Merlin watched him furtively, looking for any outward signs of the tension he knew was there. But Gwaine was the picture of calm. He was like the silence of the forest before an ambush.

Merlin stood as well and brushed the crumbs off his hands.

"There is one thing," Gwaine said as he walked back over toward Merlin.

"What's that?" Merlin said, turning to face him.

He didn't see the back of Gwaine's hand moving to strike him across the face. He only felt a sudden stinging along his jaw, and when he looked back at Gwaine there was an expression of horror written across his face as if he were appalled by what he had just done. Which made sense. Gwaine always did seem a bit bothered when Arthur hit Merlin.

The look did not dissipate as Merlin gazed at Gwaine. For a long time, they just stared.

Finally, Gwaine took a deep breath. "That's for never telling me," he said in a strained voice. Then he hugged Merlin.

Merlin wasn't sure what to make of all this, but since the situation seemed to be improving, he hugged Gwaine back.

"Thank you," Gwaine said quietly.

Then he let go of Merlin and walked back over to the horses. It looked as if he might have wiped his hand across his eyes, but Merlin couldn't see clearly enough to tell.

**~oOo~**

It was mid-morning when Gwaine finally spoke again. Until then, it almost felt like nothing had changed from the day before. It was a beautiful summer day, and the woods were peaceful and full of life.

"So, can you heal anything?" Gwaine said nonchalantly.

"What?" Merlin replied, surprised by the sudden question.

"With your magic. Can you heal anything?"

"Uh, that depends." Merlin couldn't believe they were talking about this. "Simple wounds or sicknesses, I suppose. It gets more complicated when the injury is caused by magic."

"What do you do then?"

"Research."

"You mean you don't know everything?" Gwaine smirked.

"No, hasn't Arthur told you? I'm an idiot."

"He doesn't know?"

"No. And he can't."

"I wasn't going to say anything."

"I know." Merlin faced straight ahead, squinting in the sunlight. "You're a good friend."

"Yeah, about that." Gwaine gave Merlin a curious look. "Why didn't you say anything before."

There was no good answer to that question. There were so many layer to the issue that it couldn't be explained as just one thing.

"I didn't want to put you in that position," Merlin said. Then he sighed as he realized there was something deeper at work. "And I didn't want you to stop being my friend."

Gwaine laughed it off. "Not gonna happen."

"We do need a story though. To explain that." Merlin nodded at the bloody bandages around Gwaine's ribcage.

"We were attacked, and you patched me up. We just neglect to mention the details."

Merlin nodded. "Gaius will play along. He knows."

Gwaine feigned offense. "You told him and not me?"

"He figured it out the first day he met me. I wasn't very careful back then."

"Come to think of it, you're not very careful now. There do seem to be a lot of fortunate coincidences around you."

"When Arthur's determined to get himself killed..."

"And that's another thing. Why are you so loyal to him if you're a sorcerer? He's not his father, but he might contemplate decapitating you if he found out."

"He'll come around eventually. It's his destiny. And it's mine to protect him."

"You really believe in that?"

"I have to."

Gwaine shook his head. "I think everyone makes their own decisions and lives with the consequences. Don't let yourself get lost in some destiny."

In some ways, Merlin agreed with Gwaine. His destiny wasn't set in stone, but it needed to happen. He needed to help Arthur bring magic back to the kingdom because it was the only way he could free. And he already felt lighter since telling Gwaine. It meant fewer lies on a daily basis as well as the support of a great friend. He hadn't expected it to go so well.

Their conversation was cut short when they heard hoof beats ahead. Merlin's first thought was that more bandits were coming, but Gwaine waved him forward.

"It's the search party," he said, urging his horse forward.

"How can you tell?" Merlin asked.

"I know how they ride."

"That's... weird."

"You're no one to talk, Merlin."

They laughed just as a flash of red appeared around the bend, and a rather large party of Camelot knights, led by Arthur rounded the bend. As soon as Merlin saw them, he realized how much worry they must have caused being gone all night. He had been too busy worrying himself to think about how anyone else might feel.

As soon as Arthur saw them, he jumped off his horse and rushed toward them. "Where the hell have you been?" he demanded, successfully masking any genuine concern with red-faced ire.

Gwaine reined in his horse and made a show of wincing. "We were ambushed by some bandits," he said. "I caught the wrong end of an arrow."

"He thought he was going to die," Merlin said in a teasing voice. "He was very dramatic."

Gwaine shot him a look of annoyance as the other knights laughed.

"We should be back to Camelot by midday," Arthur said. "Can you make it that far?"

"I'm fine," Gwaine said. "It's barely a scratch."

"Seems like a lot of blood for a scratch," Elyan said, narrowing his eyes at Gwaine.

"It looks worse than it is," Merlin said. "Some people just bleed a lot." It wasn't true of course. Head wounds tended to bleed a lot, even if they were minor, but that much blood from Gwaine's side would have been a bad thing. Merlin was thankful none of the knights had much medical knowledge, though Percival did give Merlin a funny look. He didn't say anything. He rarely did.

Everyone seemed satisfied that Gwaine wasn't about to keel over, so they all turned around and continued on their way. For the rest of the morning, Gwaine launched into a heavily embellished tale of their "adventure," and he kept giving Merlin knowing looks. Every-so-often, Leon or Arthur would ask Merlin if it really happened that way, and he would only smile and say nothing. He had not anticipated that it might actually be fun sharing his secret with Gwaine.

**~oOo~**

As Merlin had suspected, Gaius insisted upon examining Gwaine's wound. He had to know that it was worse than they were saying, but he was cautious enough not to say anything. Gwaine expertly waved the others off when they offered to accompany him.

"You've slacked off enough for one day," he said with a grin.

Once the door was closed, Gwaine dropped the charade of being in pain. Gaius stared at him in shock, and Merlin could almost see the wheels turning in his mind.

"What is the meaning of this?" Gaius asked.

"Well, I couldn't exactly tell the others I healed him, could I?" Merlin said.

Gaius glared at him. "That was very foolish Merlin."

"Thanks for that," Gwaine said sarcastically. "It's not like I would have died otherwise or anything."

Gaius became slightly more sympathetic at that remark. "You really didn't have a choice?" He raised his eyebrows at Merlin.

"I really didn't," Merlin said. "And I wish I'd said something sooner."

Gaius still seemed a bit skeptical, but he nodded and went to his supply cupboard for bandages. "You're going to have to keep up the ruse for a few days, Gwaine," he said. "It's a good job nobody realizes how badly injured you must have been."

Gwaine leaned back against the table behind him and smiled. "Means I don't have to go to training for a while."

Gaius frowned. "You both seem to be having too much fun with this. You'll have to be careful. You know the punishment for harboring a sorcerer."

"And you've been doing it for years," Gwaine said, crossing his arms. "Trust me, no one will find out. If anything, this might make Merlin's life easier."

Gaius looked at Gwaine with a new appreciation. It seemed that he never realized how good a friend Gwaine really was to Merlin.

"I suppose there's no going back now," Gaius conceded. Then he pointed at Gwaine."But you can take off those nasty bandages yourself."

Gwaine handed Merlin his jacket and unwrapped the scraps of cloth to reveal the unmarked skin beneath.

Gaius nodded. "Nice work, Merlin."

Merlin couldn't help grinning at that. He so rarely got credit for anything good that it was nice to hear.

Gaius wrapped the new bandages around Gwaine and then patted him on the shoulder. "I've prescribed you two days of light duty if anyone asks."

"Thanks, Gaius," Gwaine said, standing up to his full height. "I'll try not to make a habit of this."

Gaius looked nervous. "Why do I get the feeling you will not succeed?"

**~oOo~**

Life quickly returned to normal after the incident in the woods, but for Merlin, things were better. It wasn't so much that he had any more freedom than he did before, but he enjoyed the fact that Gwaine knew the truth. That distant future he called his destiny seemed closer than ever; if finally seemed possible.

And no one was suspicious of the furtive glances and knowing looks that passed between Merlin and Gwaine. They had been close friends before, so everyone just thought they were up to something. The downside was that Merlin often shared the blame in all of Gwaine's pranks, which wasn't so bad. Percival started saying that they were in cahoots. Which they were, but not the way anyone thought.

On one quiet afternoon, much like the day they had been attacked in the woods, Merlin found Gwaine standing alone on one of the parapets, enjoying the view of Camelot from the top.

"Not sure how I feel about taking responsibility for all of Leon's missing shoes," Merlin said as he came to stand beside Gwaine.

"That's what you get for associating with a scoundrel like me," Gwaine replied with a tilt of his head. "I _did_ say everything was your fault once, didn't I?"

"You were right, I suppose. There are worse things to be blamed for."

"Such as everything you actually do. I don't think I ever know the extent."

"I doubt if anyone does. You said something about everyone's decisions having consequences, but mine seem to have more than other people's."

"It's lonely at the top."

"I'm not sure what the point of being the best sorcerer in the world is if no one knows."

"_I_ know."

Merlin smiled. Strangely enough, that was a comfort. He didn't need the world to know who he was. Just the people who mattered most.

"Someday, the world will know what I am. But I'll never forget the ones who were with me all along."

Gwaine shrugged. "What are friends for?"

Merlin nodded. "I'm lucky to have you."

Suddenly a voice echoed throughout the castle. "_Merlin!_"

Gwaine's eyes widened and he clapped Merlin on the shoulder. "See you later."

He disappeared, and Merlin began to dread whatever new atrocity he was about to be blamed for. He had once thought that Gwaine wouldn't dare pull anything on Arthur, but it seemed that his inhibitions were nonexistent. Merlin steeled himself and hoped that Arthur would at least throw something softer than a metal pitcher at his head.

_The end._


End file.
